Sunday Best
by contrecoup
Summary: Fluffy fluff. The Once-ler and Norma's first date is to a diner. Totally romantic. Yeah. Totally. Great job on that, Oncie. Some language I guess? I'm rating it T just in case.


Despite the heat beating down in slow tiers, the town center stood bustling. People buzzed likes flies in a whirlwind around the gazebo, making sure to go around the lanky man standing awkwardly by himself in the shade. It didn't make much sense to wear a jacket in this weather. It didn't make much sense to have it buttoned up to the neck so that a man could choke on hist tie. The Once-ler shifted in the noonday sun. Nope, it didn't make much sense – aheheh...

He swore he wasn't going to check his watch – no, not again. But he did. Just in case. Still five minutes to go – no reason to be nervous. No~oo reason whatsoever. He was the one who was early and all.

If his height didn't set him apart from the crowd, the growing puddle he was becoming beneath his suit certainly drew any remaining eyes towards him. A few of the younger ones were pointing towards him, sending whispers back up their parent's arms. Oh god they recognized him. _That weird singing salesman, mommy_ – he could almost hear it now. Crap, where was Norma? Tomatoes were on sale, he'd noted the sign, much to his chagrin. Too much longer and he wouldn't be the only one who was antsy...

Ah, sweet mercy, there were those familiar curls bouncing and bobbing amidst the crowd. Brown with just a touch of gold, and bangs that covered her eyes when she laughed. She shot a smile towards him. Ok breath now Once...

He waved her over. Nope, nope his stomach wasn't flipping, he gave a dry gulp. His voice came close to cracking, but he reigned it in. He snatched off his hat and rung it in his fingers.

"Ma'am." His posture stiffened, and he gave a curt nod.

She eyed him. "Sir," she mimicked, laughing.

Norma's heels clicked off the curb as she bounced into place next to him. From where he was standing, she might as well have been walking on air. The way she carried herself was just always so...confident, good lord. Like the crowd parted before her, tumbling curls and all, and she couldn't even be bothered to see how much she lit up the any room with her in it.

She was..amazing...

"Uhm – hello?" the amazing Norma G. Wiggins waved to get his attention. "Hello there, I'm supposed to be meeting a nice young man here. Just met him the other day. You wouldn't happen to have have seen him, have you hon?"

His palms were sweating good lord no not already. He stumbled trying to catch at the thoughts sent in a tizzy at her words. "I-...wait, are you serious? B-B-But I thought you and I...it was today isn't it I probably have the wrong day I know I know my calender must have been wrong but then I did check it eight times before I came here but ahhh-uhmmm you didn't have to hear that pretend you didn't hear that I uh-"

He stopped. She was laughing. She was trying to be discreet, covering it with her hand, but she was definitely laughing. Why was she laughing?

"Once, I was _kidding_. Good lord you looked so stunned to see me made me think I was the one imposing on...er...whatever it was you were doing. Standing around sweating out in the sun."

_Oh great_, he pulled a strained smile, _she'd noticed_...

"So," she clapped her hand together, one wrist weighed down by her pocket book, "where are we headed?"

"O-oh yeah. Our date." A nervous laugh broke free, and he rubbed the nape of his neck. His fingers came back wet. He held them in front of his face and grimaced, shaking them dry.

"Alright!" he snapped to attention, like a whip triggering down his spine he straightened up to full height, a whopping six foot four that easily shadowed Norma's petite figure. He dipped his head towards her. Offering his hand, he murmured "Miss," in a low voice, so that only she could hear. Though she prided herself on her unflappability, it was all she could do not to turn into giggling mush.

"Oh my, such a gentlemen," she teased him in a foe southern accent, swatting at his arm. A deep blush shot to his ears, but before he could say anything, she hooked her arm around his, and half walked half led him towards the line of shops and restaurants opposite the gazebo.

"C'mon, c'mon now – I'm only teasing. You don't get a touch of that southern hospitality much her in Greenville. ** I**, for one, think it's cute." She leaned up towards him, her smile almost hidden beneath her bangs. It tugged at him, filled his stomach with that gentle ache that made him have to walk faster just to keep from tripping over his own feet.

Giving a cough totally not to calm his nerves, and a gentle pat to her wrist (the damn thing was so delicate, he was half afraid he'd break it), he brought the two to a stop.

Mustering up the butterflies in his stomach, he threw his arm up towards their destination, gesturing as if some imaginary curtain had been pulled back to reveal it.

Always such a showman, she giggled.

It was one of the smaller restaurants on the strip; Norma had seen it once or twice rushing by, never had the inkling to sample it though. A bit on the shabby side from what she was used to, at least that's how it looked from the outside. But she simply shrugged and smiled up at her date once more, willing to give it a try.

He still had his arm out, held at what looked like a pretty painful angle stuck up in the air. Obviously waiting for her impression.

"It looks lovely," she rubbed his hand, nodding so that her bangs bounced. "Better than lovely, in fact – it's perfect."

He let out the breath he'd been holding in. Thank _god _it was good enough_, _he prayed; he'd fretted over the rendezvous for their first date the entire week – checking restaurant after restaurant. This one too busy, the other too quiet (what if he ran out of things to say and things got awkward?) but above all most of the places he found were too damn expensive for anything under his budget.

But Norma deserved every penny! She deserved the nicest place in the whole town! But...seeing as he didn't exactly have the funds for such an establishment, 'Pop's Soda Parlor' would have to do for now. At least until his thneed took off, he noted pointedly. Well then, he scoffed, then he could buy the whole strip for her if she wanted!

Ah well – at least this place had pancakes. Another factor that knocked a lot of the other places off the list.

He jumped when a voice came from down by his elbow. "Shall we go inside?" Norma piped up.

He clambered to pull his feet together, practically tripping over them. "Y-yes, let's!" He sped forward to reach the door first, yanking it open. "After you, madame." He attempted to give a low bow, but only succeeded in slamming his head down on the door handle. Norma reeled back, concerned but stalled by her confusion, especially when he whipped his head back up and stumbled, his arms waving straight out ahead, unnaturally stiff and lifeless.

"Uhm...are you ok?" she finally managed, tentatively reaching out to help him. A hundred-watt smile flipped onto his face entirely too fast.

"N-no problem whatsoever, I'm **FINE** just completely _**FINE**_ how 'bout we go inside yeah that sounds perfect right 'bout _now_ let's do that!" He squeaked all at once, planting a firm but definitely shaking hand on her back to lead her in as quickly as possible.

She struggled to glance back despite his insistence. What was...wait - was that blood?

After making a hurried trip to the bathroom - totally unrelated to the scene he'd made outside, he assured her – the Once-ler scurried back to his date, already waiting for him back at their table. Smack-dab in the middle of the bustling restaurant. Super, he sighed.

She was fiddling with those little packets of sugar on their table, stacking them against each other into little tents before she noticed him approaching, and hurriedly scooped them back into their bowl, a wide smile on her face when she noticed he'd managed to mop up the cut on his forehead.

"Glad to see you've cleaned up. How about we skip the acts of chivalry for a bit, eh Once?" a cheeky grin cornered itself in her cheek, showing her lovely little dimples. The Once-ler felt a dry gulp lodge in his throat, but he tried his best to laugh it off.

"I make no promises, ma'am," he chuckled and pulled out his chair. Yeah, yeah that sounded smooth. Real debonair-like too. She rolled her eyes, watching him, but he just caught the giggle she tried hide with her palm.

He hummed himself a few victory notes. This was going WAY better than he expected. She hadn't left yet, for one.

_...give her time_...

He groaned - that stinging voice just_ had_ to chime in, didn't it?

But now their waiter was there and he hadn't even had time to look at the menu. He waved for Norma to go first without looking up, his expression oddly serious now. He opened his menu with an exaggerated 'thwack' and buried his face in it's colorfully decorated folds, disappearing out of sight.

Both startled by his behavior, the waiter and Norma stared at him for a pause.

"Ah...uhm, yeah – _I'll_ just have a hamburger," her voice dragged as she tore her gaze away from her date. Giving the waiter her most pleasant smile, she handed him her menu.

"And for you sir-"

A hand came up from behind his blockade of plastic."I don't see marshmallow pancakes on here." He slapped the menu down on the table. "There was a man here yesterday. I talked to him. And he said y'all had marshmallow pancakes."

"Oh uhm...my apologies. I could check if you like-"

"Well it's what I want anyway," he stated flatly, waving the waiter quiet and handing him his menu.

The waiter gaped, shifting his feet in front of their table as if waiting to say something. "Sir - you do realize it's one o'clock in the afternoon? We typically stop serving breakfast at ten..."

The Once-ler's face went blank. He blinked.

"...but- what does that have to do with pancakes?"

Good lord, Norma muttered, slumping down against her fist on the table. Incorrigible...simply incorrigible. Now there was a word she never thought she get to use before.

And certainly not on a date.

Her gaze teetered over her glasses as the waiter left ("yes, yes pancakes are not strictly for breakfast-sake, I apologize" he'd finally consented, muttering under his breath about the 'lanky asshole' at table six when he thought he was out of hearing.)

She was watching her date, completely unfazed, tapping out some melody with his fingertips on the linoleum. He perked up when he noticed her staring.

"...ma'am?" He nearly stuttered. See – now _there _were those manners. Where had they been before?

"You really shouldn't talk to the help that way," she said coolly, leaning back in her seat, scrutinizing him from above crossed arms.

"Like what way? I mean...what way like what? Oh cra-...dangit I mean-"

"Ah ah – I understand you completely. And you know what? Just forget it..." her eyes felt sluggish as they strayed towards the window, dragging across the sidewalk's transient inhabitants. Her thoughts churned, grating slowly behind her eyes. She wasn't exactly regretful of the evening yet, but she was definitely questioning her notions about the man who's date she'd accepted. Just let their food get here, she sighed. At least then she wouldn't be annoyed with an empty stomach.

Warning bells began to sound off in the Once-ler's mind. Oh crap oh crap she's bored what did I do oh shi-I mean crap. His tapping on the table picked up tempo, growing more frantic. Was it-...am I too picky? I bet she doesn't like picky eaters. Bet she hates 'em – CRAP. Why did I...oh you know what, shut it shut it up. Save the date – that's all I gotta do.

I gotta save the date.

Now what do woman like...?

Ignoring the palpitations clogging his chest, he raced through his memories, trying to recall the advice his mother had given him for just such an occasion.

"_When a girl doesn't like you, Oncie -"_ he still grimaced at the nickname - "_it means you're not good enough."_

Well that didn't quite help him right now...

"_Women are always waiting for you to prove to them that you're a **failure**. It's all we keep men around for, really. Far as I've figured, we must all be masochists way we hype ourselves about the men in our lives.. And once you do make that misstep – poof! Any woman with half a brain in her head will be gone. You gotta keep them impressed if you want 'em to stick around; keep their eyes shining pretty on everything you do and every word you say._

_You gotta make them believe you got **potential**." _

Potential...yeah...yeah, he could do potential. I mean he had it certainly. Not that anyone had ever told him he did...b-but it's not like something you just say to people. H_ey you – yeah you kid, you got some potential_. Not it was something you just knew. Like magical powers. Or or or a song yet to be written – yeah!

Oh crap he was rambling in his head again. The tapping increased. He prayed she hadn't noticed.

But nope, nope she was still staring out that window. Quiet. Completely quiet. Completely without saying anything...

Well he knew just how to bring her back.

"Did I ever tell you that I play guitar?" he said slightly louder than he intended. She jerked up, staring at him like he just started speaking in an entirely new language.

"...because I totally can, if that's what you were wondering," he added.

Regaining her composure, she shot up an eyebrow.

"Uhm...y-yes Once. I've seen your whole song and dance out on the steps over there. Tomatoes ring any bells?"

"Ah right...right..." he muttered, losing steam. "We-well I can show you again if you like! Here's something I've been working out in my head!"

He shot up to his feet, jiggling the table. Planting one foot precariously on top, he took hold of his fork, his hands positioned as if on the neck of some hilariously miniaturized guitar.

"_NA NA na na NA NA. OP ba bop a doopeDOOPdoop_" his singing, hardly contained, rang out across the restaurant without any need of a microphone. Amongst the booths, heads like flower buds were popping up to see what the racket was.

That didn't stop him though. The Once-ler continued serenading Norma with his improvised air guitar session.

"_Look there's some circling birds. I bet you there gonna eat our_-"

"ONCE." Norma huffed, shaking her head but fighting a smile in spite of herself. She grabbed hold of his sleeve and pulled it hard enough to bring him back down.

"That...that was lovely, hon. How about we save that for later, hm?" She playfully batted his arm, giggling, but with a keen edge to her eyes so he knew that wasn't a question. "Whew, lordy. How many men am I dating this evening?"

Despite her laughter, he could feel the disappointment growing tight in his chest; he tried not to show it too much as he gingerly placed his fork back on his napkin, folding his hands in his lap. The picture of obedience.

"I'm sorry, I just thought that you'd like it...I'll...I'll shut up now." He couldn't look her in the eye. "You can leave if you want. Sorry if I embarrassed you..." he muttered.

Her eyes rolled with her laughter. "Now c'mon now – nobody's talking about me leaving. I'm having a lovely time Once," she swatted at his chin with a crooked finger, tugging up his gaze. "Unorthodox, yes. Not quite what I expected – definitely. But lovely all the same."

"Well I just wanted to show you that I could play...I-I wanted you to believe me."

"Why wouldn't I believe you?"

That question stopped him. The way her head dropped so innocently to one side, waiting for some response he had no idea how to even begin.

Yeah...yeah why wouldn't she believe me? He hadn't stopped to question it himself.

But still it had an odd ring within him. Like something he wasn't used to quite yet.

Something he liked.

The remainder of their date fettered by to the sounds of tinkling forks (less musical in nature now), the occasional awkward lapse, but most of all gentle laughter that only fueled the Once-ler's energy, a source Norma was quickly determining to be a boundless supply once you got him going.

She hadn't even commented on the number of pancakes he'd consumed – just laughed about something along the lines of "she liked a boy with a healthy appetite."

He was talking quickly now, blabbering away about the finer points of his business plan. She'd heard his sermons before, observing his failed attempts to sell his prize to the public, but it still made her heart do laps to see his passion laid out in front of him. Counted out on lanky fingers that only saw possibilities and growth all around him, hardly touching reality.

It was...cute.

He was cute.

She giggled when he finally paused, waiting breathlessly for her to agree with him on some point.

Before she could answer, the waiter approached their table once more. "You can pay at the front desk," he said, sliding the folded pad onto their table. "I hope you two had a wonderful evening."

"Oh we did." Norma piped up, smiling over at her date in a way that made the Once-ler beam. She started to fumble around in her purse, looking for her wallet, until a hand came over and stopped her.

"No, no no. A lady doesn't pay for anything."

"But Once-"

"No ma'am. Not allowed." He tucked a smirk into the corner of his mouth, reaching into his pocket. He took it as a badge of pride when she rolled her eyes, smiling in that way that flirted with annoyance, but he knew better.

It was when his hand only fell upon scratchy cotton and pocket lint that he knew something was wrong. His pocket shouldn't be empty. It shouldn't...He switched to the other one instinctively. No...no that one shouldn't be empty either.

His wallet...where the hell was his wallet? Let's see - he'd scrounged up all the cash around his cabin, put it in his wallet, then put **that** on the dresser...

The dresser.

_Oh shit_.

His face must have fallen at that point because Norma was nudging him, a concerned breath whispered to him.

"Everything all right Once?"

He shot up from the table entirely too quickly. "N-Nothing," oh god why did his voice have to crack, "nothing at all I just...uh...uhmmm...b-bathroom!" he pedaled away from the table, almost knocking over several waiters and leaving Norma to the sound of stunned silence in her seat.

He stole away to the front desk, the sole inhabitant of which consisted of what Once-ler guessed was a woman, or at least used to be. Her surly countenance certainly didn't imply any feminine grace, and neither did the mustache on her upper lip.

Though he'd been speeding towards her, the glare she gave him stopped him cold.

"I, uhm..." he stuttered, rubbing the back of his neck, caught between trying to look enfeebled and confident, not sure which would blow over better.

"Ma'am," he began. Confidence. He picked confidence. "Ma'am, could I perhaps interest you in a _**thneed**_?"

Musing patiently to herself, Norma swung her feet under the table, the very song she'd been serenaded with earlier that evening humming under her breath.

It'd been...nice. Wonderful even. Complicated and comfortingly simple all at once. She leaned into her palm, trapping a sigh. He wasn't the type of guy she normally went for, definitely no "inventors" so far in her little black book.

At least her mother would be happy, she thought, leaning her head back against the headrest. Christ – she shot up- what should that matter? We've only had one date! She gave a fervent shake of her head, letting her curls bounce from side to side. She shouldn't be thinking like that – only crazy stalker girlfriend's thought like that.

Good lord who was this boy that made her like this?

The splintering crescendo of glass meeting tiled floor jolted her up in her seat. She whipped her head towards the commotion, along with pretty much everyone else in the restaurant.

And~...THERE was the Once-ler. She should have guessed.

He had that invention of his strung about his arms – the thneed, was it? - and he was...oh god, she'd seem him do this before. On the steps of the gazebo outside.

He was clambering to bend down towards the dozen or so broken glasses now adorning the floor (how that had happened, she could only guess) spouting out answers to questions the audience hadn't thought yet to ask.

"No problem, no problem!" his words came out hurried and frantic, his eyes widening as more heads gathered around him. "A thneed is all you need for even a job this big! It's super-absorbent, I-I-I swear! It was in all the tests at least...See!" He jammed the pink thneed into a rather round gentleman's glass of tea, sitting harmlessly enough on the table. Sure enough, it soaked up all the liquid inside. Not that the man was too happy to be shown that particular use.

"It's even a hat too!" He continued. Barely squeezing it out, he arranged it with a complicated series of folds and plopped it's damp weight on his head. Tea leaked out onto his shoulders, staining his 'Sunday best'. He gave a wide smile to his audience, pretending to ignore the brown droplets now racing down his brow.

Most of the waiters were accumulating around him now, encircling him.

"Sir, you've disturbed enough of our guests. Now please...please just pay your bill and leave."

Norma hadn't thought his eyes could get any wider.

"N-No j-j-just let me show you-!" he squeaked, high-pitched and breathless, backing away from the crowd. "I-I can..." His foot found one of the broken glass shards he'd scattered on the ground; failing to hold his weight, it shot out from beneath him, just barely missing the round gentleman's left ear.

With a tremendous "OooOMPH", he fell hard to the floor, taking down the table behind him when he reached out to catch himself. Dishes and half-finished meals flew through the air, splattering not only his own dampened clothes but also showering the waiters and guest watching the show.

They were kicked soon after, just as soon as Norma fished out a few bills for the tab. Including a very, _very _healthy tip and a hurried explanation.

The walk back to Norma's apartment was a quiet one. The Once-ler barely said anything after they left the restaurant, only grumbling something about 'no respect for vision' and the lot. She tried to make sure he was alright – that was a nasty spill after all – but he practically shoved her away every time she tried to touch him.

He was embarrassed. She knew how men wore it. She'd been around enough of them in her life to know how they were when they felt threatened.

It was completely idiotic, she realized, but part of her still felt her heart going out to him.

He had tried _so_ hard...he'd been that way the entire evening. And finally, when it was his time to step up and 'be a man' (whatever the hell that was...she sighed), not only could he not afford the meal, but he couldn't even sell his own invention.

_He must feel humiliated_, she stared holes into his back as they walked, concern fluttering inside her.

He'd gotten a few paces ahead of her while she was lost in her thoughts. She ran forward a ways, rejoining his side.

Without a word, she slipped her tiny palm into his, calloused fingers linking softly with pink skin.

He gave her hand a squeeze.

And they made their way back to her place in silence, catching themselves when their smiles got too wide. Any tension between them forgotten.


End file.
